Tim Burton's Corpse Bride Victoria's view
by ThestralsAreInteresting
Summary: I do not own any of these characters - all rights go to Tim Burton. This is chapter one of Corpse Bride from Victoria Everglot's point of view. Let me know what you think, it's the first thing I've published on here :D


I had always dreamed of my wedding day, ever since I was a young girl. It was to be the happiest day of my life. Marrying someone I love.  
But now that would never happen.  
'Oh, Hildegarde. What if Victor and I don't . . . like each other?'  
'As if that has anything to do with marriage!' My mother had appeared like a bombshell in the door of my bedroom. 'Do you suppose your father and I actually like each other?'  
'Surely you must a little', I asked. They looked at each other in disgust.  
'Of course not!', they barked in unison.  
'Get those corsets laced properly', Mother ordered. 'I can hear you speak without gasping'. She waved her hand imperiously and then left the room. My father waddled after her.  
I felt as though my heart was breaking. It was so selfish of them. I knew the money was gone – they reminded me of it everyday. But to force me into a lifetime of marriage to a stranger, just to save them from the streets? I had never felt so lonely in all my life. I hadn't a friend in the world – not even Hildegarde, my nurse, could save me from this.  
'It'll be alright Miss Victoria,' wheezed Hildegarde, her wrinkled old face shining with earnest. She knew how I felt, but as she was only my nurse she could not question my parents choices for me.  
'How could it ever be alright, Hildegarde? How can I ever live, knowing all my choices are made for me?'  
'Ah, but life is like that. You cannot have everything exactly as you want it, you know. Life is for the brave. And anyhow, perhaps an arranged marriage would suit you Miss Victoria.'  
I nodded. I knew there was some truth in Hildegarde's words. After all, she was older and wiser than me. She had been my nurse all my life, she knew me better then anyone.  
The doorbell suddenly rang, the clanging echoing noisily throughout the house. They were here! Hildegarde gasped and left the room. My heart started thumping noisily and sweat sprang out from beneath my corset. I could the mumbling of voices, introducing each other. I heard a high pitched shriek that I assumed was Victor's mother laughing. My own mother never laughed. I was getting hotter and hotter, waiting for the moment when I would be called down for the grand meeting with my husband-to-be.  
Suddenly, the west drawing room door slammed shut. All was silent. I remained still until my heart rate had returned to normal and my hands were no longer clammy. Breathing calmly, I picked up my comb and fiddled around with my hair. The silence was impenetrable – but I was used to that. There was rarely any laughter or conversation in our house.  
Suddenly, seeping through the silence, came the most beautiful breath-taking sound. It rose and dropped, wavering on each note. It was the most wonderfully eerie piano music I had ever heard. It reminded me of sorrow, despair, and yet hope, all magically woven together into the intricate beauty that was this heavenly music. It was strange, yet beautiful. Melodious, but uplifting. It filled me with hope.  
I stood up and followed the music, treading softly so I would not muffle the beautiful sound. I reached the top of the staircase and leaned forwards. The music was coming from the grand piano in the hall. Even as I watched, the pianist's hands seemed to flow across the keys, light as a feather and as soft as water. It was enchanting. _He _was enchanting. I could tell from up here he was tall, he was slender, his hair was as black as midnight and his skin as white as snow.  
I approached the piano unnoticed. He carried on playing passionately until –

'Oh!', he yelped, leaping up and knocking over the piano stool in his haste. The vase of flowers wobbled and tipped, but he caught it just before it toppled over. 'Do forgive me'.  
'You play beautifully'.  
'I... I... I do apologize, Miss Everglot', he stuttered. 'How rude of me to... well...' He broke off awkwardly. 'Excuse me', he said, heaving the piano stool upright again.

'Mother won't let me near the piano', I said sadly. 'Music is improper for a young lady. Too passionate, she says.'  
'If I may ask, Miss Everglot . . . where is your chaperone?'. He looked nervous.  
'Perhaps in . . . in view of the circumstances, you could call me Victoria.' I sounded nervous too.  
'Yes, of course. Well Victoria - '  
'Yes, Victor?'

'Tomorrow we are to be m . . . m . . . m'

'Married'. I was beginning to feel at ease with Victor. There was something reassuring about his nervousness, and I was beginning to enjoy his company.  
'Yes. Married'.

I decided to confide to him. I felt as though he felt the same way as me about this arranged marriage.  
'Since I was a child, I've . . . I've always dreamt of my wedding day. I hoped to find someone I was deeply in love with. Someone to spend the rest of my life with.' I sighed. 'Silly, isn't it?'

'Yes, silly. No! No, not at all, no.' He paused. 'Oh dear. I'm sorry'.  
The drawing room doors suddenly flew open with a bang.  
'What impropriety is this?!', my mother roared. 'You shouldn't be _alone_ together! Here it is, one minute before and you are not at the rehearsal!' She marched back, bellowing over her shoulder 'Pastor Galswells is waiting. Come at once!'


End file.
